


word of mouth

by the_ragnarok



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alpha!John, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega!Harold, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:43:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6973948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ragnarok/pseuds/the_ragnarok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John catches Harold off guard. Shameless porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	word of mouth

The scent rising off Harold is subtle, easy to miss. It has John taking stumbling steps closer, like a cartoon character being dragged by the nose to approach something delicious.

Apart from John not being a cartoon, it's more description than simile.

Harold's standing at his desk, frowning at the screen. He doesn't jump when John crowds him and nuzzles his nape. Neither does he move when John settles both hands on Harold's hips, bracketing him.

He does complain. "There are hours yet."

"Speak for yourself." John is pretty close to happily useless at the moment.

"I am," Harold snaps. "If you're feeling out of commission, I urge you to go rest. Somewhere else," he adds, voice rising perilously close to a squeak when John carefully settles some of his weight on Harold.

"But I don't want to." John nips at Harold's earlobe, relishing Harold's quickly suppressed shiver.

There's an odd balance to the moment. Any minute now, Harold could sharply remark that John has better self control than this: sharp enough to pierce the pleasant heat-fog slowly taking over John's mind, to cut the invisible tether pulling John inexorably to Harold.

Instead, Harold is still for a moment, and then he sags into John's greedy arms. "If we must," he says. His resignation has a smile in it.

It makes John feel preverse. "I wouldn't want to keep you from working." He punctuates the words with little kisses to Harold's neck and shoulders.

"Really," Harold says dryly. 

"Just ignore me," John says, disengaging slightly from Harold, just enough to be sure Harold is carrying his own weight. "Do your thing."

Then John drops to his knees behind Harold to nuzzle his behind.

"Mr. Reese!" Now Harold does squeak. 

John grins and nuzzles him again, reaching to undo the buttons of Harold's pants. "Are you having difficulties focusing, Harold?"

"I'd say that, yes." Harold's breath hitches.

John rubs his cheek against Harold's cotton boxer-briefs before pulling them down. Harold's bare skin is soft and hot against his face, Harold's scent familiar, grounding.

"Then I better make it worth your while," John says. He spreads Harold open and moves in to devour.

The noises Harold makes are the best thing, quiet and surprised enough to border on scandalized. It makes John wonder if Harold never had anyone do this for him before John. It seems impossible.

Impossibility and Harold fit well together, though. John spares a mental shrug for Harold's hypothetical past partners: their loss, John's gain.

If John's aim were to get Harold wet and loose enough for penetration - for knotting - this would not be the best way to accomplish that. Harold responds more favorably to kissing, caresses, slow-burn touches. 

Harold loves this, though. In a way, John almost likes doing this better because of that: he's working to bring Harold pleasure, not to end the heat or get his knot wet. 

Thinking of his knot makes it pulse low and urgent in his pants. John stifles a groan in Harold's heated flesh, enjoys Harold's ensuing shudder.

"We can't," Harold says, reading John's mind. His voice has a tone of regret, but also finality. "Not here."

John pulls away just far enough to laugh silently. "I know, Finch," he says. "Not my first rodeo."

He can't see Harold's face. He doesn't need to, to know Harold is glaring. "Then you just thought you'd tease me for the fun of it?"

John considers. That's getting difficult, heat setting in. "Not tease," he says. "I'll get you off, don't worry." He brings his hand to the front to squeeze Harold's cock gently.

Harold chokes, and John takes that as a cue to resume what he was doing. He strokes Harold's cock while he's at it, quick tight motions that he knows Harold prefers.

Later, they'll go to a safehouse. John'll put Harold on a bed and kiss him thoroughly, knot Harold as many - or as few - times as Harold wants. Harold's body will be fantastically tight around him, and Harold would make the irritable face John likes so much at the resulting mess before John would clean them up.

Now, there is the matter of giving Harold his mouth and hand so that Harold doesn't need to thrust, of fucking his tongue deeper into Harold as Harold shakes closer to orgasm, moving his hand faster around Harold's dick, John's thumb catching wetness of the tip to make his hand slide better. 

Harold comes in a series of flutters around John's tongue, pulsing into John's hand. John keeps licking until Harold stills with a sigh. Then he moves back, sucks his own fingers clean, one after another, loving the deep ache in his groin.

It's going to be better soon. Harold is going to make it better.

"I suppose," Harold says, "we better make it to the safehouse before you decide to molest me further." There's nothing mistrustful about him, however, not in his tone or his expression or his posture. He seems pleased: there's a softness to him now that has nothing to do with the plushness of his ass or even the quiescence of his dick.

"Better not push it," John agrees, although he's perfectly content to wait. Now that need isn't thrumming off Harold in waves, John can be as patient as Harold wants him to be.


End file.
